User blog:Leea/The Tale of Voronwe, Chapter 80
Previous Chapters 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th, 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, 23rd, 24th, 25th, 26th, 27th, 28th, 29th, 30th, 31st, 32nd, 33rd, 34th, 35th, 36th, 37th, 38th, 39th, 40th, 41st, 42nd, 43rd, 44th, 45th, 46th, 47th, 48th, 49th, 50th, 51st, 52nd, 53rd, 54th, 55th, 56th, 57th, 58th, 59th, 60th, 61st, 62nd, 63rd, 64th, 65th, 66th, 67th, 68th, 69th, 70th, 71st, 72nd, 73rd, 74th, 75th, 76th, 77th, 78th, 79th The Tale of Voronwe, Chapter 80 4th Era 171, 7th of Second Seed, Pyandonea Talgando carried the now empty donation plate back up the stairs. There had been a slight increase in donations since the outbreak of war between the Imperial Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion. Perhaps more people, like himself, wished the Goddess of Compassion would intervene, though that was yet to happen, if it would at all. The gods rarely intervened in mortal affairs unless it was of dire importance. Unfortunately, wars were all too commonplace, and empires rose and fell all the time. He doubted Mara would intervene, though he wished it would be so, anyway. As he reached the top of the stairs, he thought he heard laughter and hushed whispers. Odd, he thought, the laughter seemed familiar, like an old memory tugging at his mind from deep within. The laughter and whispers also died out as he had reached the top, meaning that the people - or person - had heard him as well. He opened the door leading to the congregation area and got the shock of his life. There, in the middle of the isle between the pews, were Orthendar, and Altmer woman, and, of all people - much less one he never expected to see again - Balasian, in the flesh. The Altmer must be Curwe then, he thought, before he was blown away by pure surprise and a little doubt. Was this an illusion? A figment of his imagination? He knew he was getting older, but he didn't think he was that bad yet as to be seeing things that weren't there. Was it a vision? No...he'd never had visions before. He didn't even notice his grip on the collection plate had loosened before it was too late. The glass collection plate fell from his hand and smashed on the marble floor, shattering into dozens upon dozens of fragments. The loud, jarring sound split the silence and instantly grabbed everyone's attention. Whereas he had no idea what to say originally, now he really didn't know what to say, and the shattering of the antique plate was not what he wanted to "say" at all to a friend you have not seen in almost a century and meeting his lady for the first time. His cheeks reddened as all three were staring at him. "Balasian," he whispered into the silence. "Is...is that really you?" He felt exceedingly self-concious. He should have worn something better today. Balasian smiled. He still had that same winning smile. "Talgando," he began, approaching the priest, though avoiding the shards of glass. "It is good to see you again. I was so happy when I heard you had married at last." he said warmly, hand outstretched to shake his. Talgando took it immediately and shook it firmly before losing himself in emotion and pulling him forward and hugging him tightly. Balasian patted him on the back. "I must be getting old," he whispered, patting Balasian's back as well before parting from him. "But I've missed you terribly." He laughed. "I would worry if no one missed me." He blushed, averting his eyes to the floor at his feet. "Yes, yes...of course. But still." Balasian gave a lopsided smile at that, and then turned to the Altmer woman still standing near Orthendar, who were both smiling a little. Reaching out his arm to her, he said, "This is someone I'd like you to meet." The woman came forward and took his outstretched hand. He turned back to Talgando, who was all-too-aware of the sharp fragments of glass near his feet. He prayed that no one would step in them before he had the chance to clean them up. That would be highy uncomfortable - especially since it was his fault - and the memory would be marred by the experience. "This is Curwe," Balasian was saying, holding her hand and smiling both at her and him. "I'm sure you've heard plenty about her over the years." He gazed at her face. She had the golden color of Altmer, matching hair, and deep amber eyes. She looked as if she worked hard for her living, though not to the point of exertion. She had the healthy glow of someone who had lots of stamina and endurance. "It is wonderful to meet you at last," he managed, shaking her hand and clearing his throat. "We've all heard so much about you over the decades. You are just as I imagined you to be, my lady." Curwe smiled at his words as she took back her hand. "And it is good to finally meet you, as well. I've heard a lot about you, too. I was so sorry when I heard about your brown hair." Talgando's smile faltered, but he managed to keep it up, though not as bright and happy. While he didn't want to jump to conclusions, it sounded like she had the same stigma against brown hair as many of the Maormer did. What a shame. But, then again, maybe it was a flub of words. She was on a foreign island, after all, with peoples not seen by the larger world for centuries. He hoped it was the latter, not the former. Only time would tell. Category:Blog posts